


Armistice

by drinkbloodlikewine, whiskeyandspite



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: Control, Double Penetration, Hate Sex, M/M, Rough Sex, Threesome, Voyeurism, preening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 10:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5086939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drinkbloodlikewine/pseuds/drinkbloodlikewine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeyandspite/pseuds/whiskeyandspite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“We talk about this reasonably,” Michael suggests, his words a throaty rumble that reach those depths only when he’s been -</i>
</p><p>
  <i>- when he’s been -</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“What the <i>fuck</i>,” growls Alex again. </i>
</p><p>Alex walks in on something he doesn't quite expect to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Armistice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kinneykid3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneykid3/gifts).



There are inopportune moments, and there is just plain dumb unluckiness.

Alex has never been particularly lucky. Not in this life anyway. People claim him the savior, Michael reads him pages upon pages of praise but beyond the marks on his skin aching, beyond his city falling to ruin, beyond the eightballs that find joy only in destruction and pain, beyond Gabriel wanting to destroy everything Michael has tried so hard to build, he sees little else in his life.

And none of that is lucky.

So it shouldn’t have surprised him - taking the stairs two at a time up to Michael’s eyrie, tired from a day’s guarding and several hours worth of city-dust on his shoes and skin - that someone is already in there with him. Alex goes in anyway, uncaring as he peels off his shirt and tosses it to the ground as the door swings closed behind him. If it’s Ethan, he’s already seen enough to hardly give a damn. If it’s someone else well -

Then it’s someone else.

Alex stomps with heavy boots around the wide round bed and mounts the stairs leading to it, working the buckles of his holster belt as he goes. He just wants to forget. To fall heavy beneath warm wings and whispered words, against lips that worship and remind him who he is outside of a simple soldier in the Angel Corps. He just wants to fuck, honestly.

He tosses a casual glance to the bed, the figures writhing on it, and notes that Michael has all his wings unfurled and trembling in pleasure. Three sets, six beautiful dark wings, gently flicking and stretching and bending in his pleasure. Alex blinks. There are more than six. There are seven, eight, twelve of the damn things.

“What the fuck?” Alex breathes, frowning, as Michael’s face, not another’s peeks through the covering wings.

“Well,” Gabriel sighs. “This _is_ a surprise.”

For a beat, Alex can’t move at all.

And then he can’t move fast enough. Tripping over his boots, knees smacking against the floor, he curses sharp as he fumbles for his holster. A swift hand snares for his wrist from the bed and stops him from drawing it.

“Alex, wait,” Michael says.

“No, no,” laughs the other angel. “Let him, it’ll be more fun that way.”

Gabriel, fucking _Gabriel_ , arches on the bed before folding his wings aside one set after another until only his flight wings are presented, arched up like the steeples of a church as he stretches those too. He folds his arms behind his head in the messy sheets and considers the two men in the room.

“Alex.” He’s always purred the word, relished it as one would a sweet against their tongue, and every time, _every damn time_ Alex responds to it without wanting to. He wonders if that’s what the Voice feels like, that Michael had told him about, or if Gabriel just happens to be despicably charming on his own. He hates him. Rather a lot. “You and I never seem to meet on terms where we are both on equal footing, do we?”

“Michael, what the fuck,” Alex hisses, still trying to unholster his gun despite Michael’s calm and cool hand holding him still. Splayed across his back, lying bare atop his wings still lazily unfurled, Michael regards him with a patience that curls Alex’s free hand to a fist. His arm tenses to knock the look right off of his face but even that movement - the _thought_ of that movement - lifts Michael’s brow.

“We talk about this reasonably,” Michael suggests, his words a throaty rumble that reach those depths only when he’s been -

\- when he’s been -

“What the _fuck_ ,” growls Alex again. He tries to pull his hand away but Michael simply slides sideways across the silken sheets, tugged a few inches nearer to the bed. One of his flight wings tilts to the floor, long feathers resting against the top step. Beside him, Gabriel folds his legs and rests back on his hands, interest piquing a brow, and cock standing still-stiff between his legs.

Alex blinks back to Michael and leans close, lips curled over clenched teeth. “That’s - he’s -”

“My brother,” sighs Michael, turning to his side and reaching to trace his fingertips along Alex’s cheek. “I know you’re angry, Alex.”

“Angry?” His voice doesn’t even sound like his own, bewildered and higher than it should be. He does everything in his power not to look at Michael, curled so beautiful as he always fucking is after sex. He tries even harder not to look at the scratch marks that run parallel down from his chest all the way to - 

“I’ll kill him,” Alex finishes, to a very soft sound of delight from Gabriel. “Shut up.”

“It’s in the past, Alex. Truly, you humans seem to hold a grudge forever. You don’t actually have that long, you know.”

“What you did -”

“In the eyrie, on the mountain, for four months, yes, yes, you’ve been over this several times with different people and yet you never once change the indignation in your tone,” Gabriel points out, brow raised. “I think you’re still sore over the fact that Noma had to be there to see you, more than anything else. The rest was hardly a cruelty.”

Alex looks like he’s about to bust a vein and his lips slip back in a snarl that stays silent, just vibrates against Michael’s hand as he skims down Alex’s chest and presses against his heart. It slows, damn it, it slows when he touches Alex like that. Gabriel shifts then, enough to press his nose to Michael’s shoulder, to nuzzle there until the archangel’s eyes hood in feline delight and Alex is jealous. He is _jealous_ because he can never make Michael do that so easily.

“I should just go,” Alex huffs, relaxing his fingers against his gun in hopes that Michael lets him go. He doesn’t.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Gabriel sighs, his Voice lower somehow, pulling at something in Alex he can’t control. He continues nosing against his brother a moment more before lifting his eyes to the chosen one. “Stay. Let me make amends, at least, for the _horrors_ you suffered.”

With a shake of his head, Alex tries to stand. He tries to pull his feet beneath him, he feels his muscles flex, but he remains right where he is, as if the gravity around him has suddenly increased - as if he himself is weighted to the ground. His heart speeds again, a sudden panic spilling the hot metallic taste of adrenaline into his drying mouth.

Michael hums dismay, turning to regard Gabriel and speak in a language Alex can’t understand.

“What are you saying?” Alex demands, his voice cracking. “What did you do?”

“I spoke,” Gabriel answers. His amusement narrows his eyes and spreads his smile and he slips an arm across Michael’s pale chest.

“His gift,” clarifies Michael. “The Voice given to him by our Father, to convey his commands to humanity.”

“And to you.”

“And to me,” he sighs, but to Alex’s eyes, it’s only superficially frustration. To Alex’s eyes, Michael shivers, and the whisper of his feathers betrays it.

Alex’s throat burns. Every accusation he wants to rightfully sling at Gabriel snares in his throat - for the war, for the destruction. For the lives lost and cities destroyed. For his own torment and that of his friends. The room spins and for a moment Alex thinks he’s going to be sick.

For a moment, until Michael’s cool fingers curl against his cheek. “Come here,” he coaxes, and as if he knows that isn’t enough, his jaw works in thought and finally, Michael’s gaze softens. “Let it go, for now. For me. Pretend as if he were another, any other -”

“Brother, please,” Gabriel groans, burying a laugh against Michael’s shoulder. “Have you fallen so low that it’s come to pleading with -”

“The Chosen One? Gladly. My chosen one?” Michael asks. “Just as much.”

At that, Alex feels a flurry of pride unfurl within his belly. His chosen one. Yes. Just as Michael is his Michael, to anger and comfort and grow annoyed at and be taken by. Theirs. Not this. He doesn’t know if - even for Michael, though - he can do this.

“You will have your hands full, brother,” Gabriel murmurs, though there is no malice in it, just genuinely amusement. “Trying to juggle my pleasure and his ego in one bed.”

“Then, perhaps, our efforts should be concentrated on him,” Michael points out, a sly look over his shoulder, a genuine and soft one back at Alex where he kneels, and Alex feels himself give in. Fiber by fiber. He just wanted a fuck anyway, right?

“You gonna let me up?” Alex asks, directing his eyes with a lazy blink to the other archangel in the bed.

“You might regret the decision,” Gabriel tells him. “You’re in rather a delightful position to pleasure, and with no chance to move…”

“Gabriel.”

“As you wish.” A long-suffering eye-roll towards the ceiling and Gabriel falls back to bed with a shiver of feathers and a shift of the mattress. “ _Move freely as you wish_ around your angel. I will gladly watch.”

“You will be useful.”

“As I’m told, I’m sure,” Gabriel winks at his brother, but makes no move to get between him and Alex when the boy can stand again. He just watches.

Alex could go. He could. He tells himself he could but those muscles don’t move right and it’s not because of any celestial bullshit, either. _Your angel_ , Gabriel said, and Michael is that. And despite how he found them, despite their evident comfort - as Gabriel traces his fingers fondly down one of Michael’s smaller wings - he can’t help but be wary of leaving Michael alone with him.

He can’t help but want to press close and pretend this isn’t fucking happening.

Michael extends his fingers and Alex takes them, squeezing harder than necessary as he slips onto the bed. A narrow look is shot to Gabriel before Alex pulls close to Michael, and accepts the kiss touched to the corner of his mouth. He presses their brows together and whispers, as softly as he can manage, “He’s your _brother_.”

A little sound rises from Michael in confirmation of this, and he lays his palm to Alex’s cheek, thumb stroking beneath his eye as he kisses him again. “I know it’s unusual to you -”

“It’s fucking _incest_.”

“No wonder you’re all so high-strung,” Gabriel murmurs. “All that self-inflicted morality to contend with.”

“Self-inflicted - it was _your_ Father -”

“It isn’t the same,” Michael interjects, gently as he can manage despite the fluttering of annoyance at them both. “Gabriel is as much a part of me as I am of him. We are made of the same material, halved. The rules laid down for humanity were for your own good, made for you based on your own beings. We are,” he sighs, and draws a breath, seeking for the words and attempting to focus as Gabriel strokes his hip. “We are different beings entirely, and yet the same, entirely.”

“Consider it akin to your human masturbation,” Gabriel offers, delighted, apparently, by this entire conversation. 

“That’s disgusting.”

“Oh don’t play the virgin, _Alex_ , save us all the awkwardness of trying to pretend that’s true. You hardly find the act deplorable when you touch yourself late at night in your own bunk, hoping your nearest neighbour doesn’t hear you.” A click of Gabriel’s tongue, fingertips walking briskly up Michael’s side and curling him to pleasure with a shiver. “Or hoping he does?”

“Fuck you,” Alex spits, making up for what he lacks in eloquence with pure spite instead. Michael clucks his tongue in disapproval but finds himself snared by calloused hands and drawn into a rough kiss by the Chosen One. He parts his lips; their tongues entwine. Michael pulls himself closer to Alex with a hand against his chest and the other slipping slow down his spine to tug at the waistband of his pants.

Gabriel watches, his arm remaining over Michael’s chest. A tug to free him fails, and so he presses closer to Michael instead. Michael shivers and moans against Alex’s mouth as Gabriel kisses his shoulder, up to his throat. He drives his hips in a sharp jut against Alex when Gabriel sucks a kiss against his pale skin, firm enough to darken it.

“You know who I hope hears it?” Alex says to Gabriel, suddenly breaking the kiss and leaving Michael wide-eyed and more than a little dismayed to be momentarily un-kissed. “I hope Michael hears it, and he always does. He sends for me and brings me here. And it must drive you fucking crazy to know he’s spending his nights fucking me instead of -”

He doesn’t get to finish his declaration, his incitement to violence. It’s turned instead into a fierce kiss, not against Michael’s mouth but against Gabriel’s instead. Harsh fingers snare in Alex’s cropped curls to hold him close, no words to infuse the use of his Voice but a resonant hum in its place.

This is fine. This feels fine. He isn’t bursting spontaneously into flames or feeling an ache in his markings as he did in that eyrie all those months ago. It feels… it actually feels really fucking good. Alex protests when he’s hauled over Michael to flop between them on the massive bed but he goes. He protests his boots being yanked off and tossed away but he lets it happen. He protests his pants being peeled from him and having his body bared but as soon as it is he presses closer to the angel he claims to hate above anyone else and slips a leg between his.

Michael watches, the way Alex scrambles and squirms, shoves his anger into energy and uses that energy on pleasure instead. He is remarkable, frail and fragile yet entirely beautiful; strong with his markings and his own scars of previous suffering, some of Michael’s own making, with the whip. Michael presses hot kisses to his back, to his shoulders and down, as Alex rocks and ruts and rubs against Gabriel.

He is surrounded, by the two most dangerous beings to the whole of his kind. Above and beneath Alex spread black wings; around him wrap strong arms and legs. His sound of alarm immolates into a moan as Michael rubs between his legs. It builds to an ecstatic curse as Gabriel grasps their lengths together. Both bodies against him possess unfathomable strength, divine and terrible, and suddenly Alex laughs, as both angels look on in puzzlement.

They feel the same. Both of them pressed against him like this feel entirely the same.

Beings that are worthy of revulsion and reverence, beings worthy of fear and awe. He knows Michael innately, after so many years together, and he knows him enough to know how nearly identical Gabriel feels in his energy before him. They lean past him, whispered words flowing soothing as a cool breeze in summer, and Alex watches rapt as above him they kiss again. The movements of their mouths twist in tandem; their tongues flicker past parted lips to join the other in a shared heartbeat pulse of heat.

When Alex was younger and hornier, he always imagined being in bed with twins.

He never imagined it quite like this.

“He is a squirmy thing, your chosen one,” Gabriel says, snaring his fingers in Alex’s hair to bend him, smiling when instead of obediently going, Alex runs his nails sharp down Gabriel’s chest. “Learned well from you, I see.”

Michael just sighs, presses a kiss to Alex’s shoulder, down his arm, over to Gabriel’s side where Alex presses. Venturing from one beloved body to another, feeling his wings stretch wider, shift to envelope them in his pleasure. He slips his fingers harder against Alex’s ass, just rubbing and teasing against him until he makes a helpless sound and Gabriel, with a sigh, decides to help.

His grip on Alex’s cock is rougher than Michael’s, but he works Alex damn near immediately so close to the edge he has to beg him to slow down. He hates begging anyone. Gabriel just narrows his eyes in delight.

“Now that’s better, we’re getting along now.”

“Don’t,” gasps Alex, “don’t mistake this for -”

“You lying beside me, thrusting into my hand?” Gabriel laughs, leaning in to graze his teeth against Alex’s throat and draw a shiver from him. “I wouldn’t dream of mistaking it for anything other than exactly what it is.”

“A fuck,” Alex insists. He grits his teeth but his pleasure erupts all the same, a high and eager moan turned against Gabriel’s cheek.

“Not yet, it isn’t,” muses Gabriel.

Michael’s fingers, dampened with warm spit when Alex wasn’t paying attention, press against his opening again. He caresses wrinkled skin and parts him with a fingertip, then another, rocking inward in time with his own lazy thrusts against Alex’s back. Alex turns, or tries to turn, but manages to tear himself from Gabriel’s mouth to see Michael’s instead, a clumsy kissed caught in the corners of their lips.

“Someday,” Michael whispers, between the kisses Alex seeks that Michael is more than happy to indulge. “Someday you will cease to amaze me. It seems today is not that day. Let me -”

“Let us,” Gabriel interjects.

“Only if you wish it,” murmurs Michael, feathers already ruffling stiff in pleasure.

Alex makes a weak sound. He wants it and he doesn’t, he needs it and he doesn’t, he hates it and he doesn’t - he doesn’t at all. He squirms between the two of them, planting soft kisses on Michael, biting ones on Gabriel. Both respond in kind, and the juxtaposition of affections drives Alex to the brink.

And he will not have Gabriel witness the mess he becomes when Michael makes him come more than once in so short a timeframe. Not a chance in Hell or Heaven, if they’re different places at all. He seeks with one hand around Michael’s neck, the other behind Gabriel’s, and draws them both closer to him.

Because fuck it, that’s why. Fuck it.

He’s here already. It feels fantastic.

No one would believe he met Gabriel in Michael’s eyrie anyway, let alone that he was boned by them both. Thank the ever-absent God for that, he supposes.

“What,” he pants, a challenge and a question both. “What, huh? What do you want to do?”

“You,” the angels answer in unison, and it’s an actual fucking miracle that Alex doesn’t come from that alone. He bites his lip to hold it back as they laugh, a deep resonance like thunder, like an earthquake, like the Heavens fucking sundered against his skin.

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me,” he mumbles, shivering as cool lubricant is slicked between his legs. “Really?” He asks, looking to Michael who simply quirks a brow. “Really, now?”

“Does he not normally?” Gabriel asks.

“No, fucking - fucking _never_.”

“How inconsiderate, brother.”

“Oh,” moans Alex. “Oh fuck, don’t call him that.”

“Brother? But he is,” insists Gabriel, with a curl of his hips as Michael reaches past Alex to take his cock in glistening fingers and stroke him damp. Their eyes meet over Alex and Michael grins, nose wrinkling, as Gabriel purrs, “Little brother.”

It is at once remarkably hot and wrong, on so many levels. Years and years of stories and ingrained taboo of the entire concept has had Alex guilty thinking of twins in his bunk, but he thanked the stars he had no siblings to accidentally look at the wrong way. But these two…

They aren’t two, he knows Gabriel had told the truth there. They are not two, they are one with two forms, their energy the same, their mannerisms uncannily so. They look nothing alike and yet they could not be more the same. Alex just goes with it. It feels too fucking good to argue the point. But the lube, he admits, is still strangely sweet on behalf of the brother who would be the rougher of the two. He wonders if he’s compensating by trying harder.

He goes obediently to his stomach, finding Michael the lovely warm platform that receives him. And it’s easier, looking at him, trying to resist the tug to be intimate, to nuzzle and press close. Alex goes when Michael starts it, he doesn’t look behind himself but he hears the wings, he feels them, shift and shiver against him, hisses when some feathers leave paper-thin slices against his skin as Gabriel moves above them both.

“Oops.” A bite is Gabriel’s apology, sucked warm against Alex’s shoulder, and he would protest, he’s almost sure he could, if Michael hadn’t lined up and wasn’t pushing into him, now, slowly, deliberately making him feel every inch.

For all his training, all his physical prowess and strength, Alex weakens for this, without exception. His knees spread against the bed, thighs already trembling. Another inch deeper as he relaxes there, too, and Michael feels Alex give way. Slow little thrusts, almost teasing, or at least they would be on any other night. He rests a hand against Michael’s cheek and hides their kiss from Gabriel, his quiet whisper.

“You don’t have to be careful with me. You know that.”

Michael’s smile unfurls wide as he traps Alex in a plunging kiss. His hips rock up as Alex pushes back, only to find a new press against him, pushing blunt where he’s already full. Their lips part gasping and Alex looks over his shoulder. Gabriel’s wings block out the windows that surround them and Vega’s sparkling lights beyond. Six spread wide, regal in his grandeur, Gabriel coils forward against Alex’s body as another bend of his hips brings his cock to near breaching. He spans a hand against Alex’s back, sighing heat across his markings.

“There’s something strangely satisfying,” Gabriel murmurs, “in feeling as if I’m defiling His word.”

Alex curses, clinging to Michael and the sheets beneath him, and comes hard from just the words alone. A helpless sound as he quivers against his angel, the other looming behind him and like a bird of prey over them both.

"Blasphemous little thing." Gabriel sounds delighted, soothing a hand down Alex's back. It is strangely gentle, enough to make Alex shiver, until - while his body is lax and unresisting - Gabriel shifts his hips forward and breaches him. Alex makes a sound, a gasping groan of pain and pleasure both, and presses down against Michael harder. "But he is beautiful, I will give you that, brother."

"And clever," Michael murmurs. He's breathless as Gabriel settles in alongside him, the chosen one between them panting and trying to regain any vague notion of even where up and fucking down are.

"Are you going to coddle me or fuck me?" Alex grits out, mouth opening wider on a whine as Gabriel slaps a palm against his thigh in reprimand.

"I suppose we could do both," he replies, dry. "There are two of us."

"Just - just move," Alex tries to demand, but it sounds like a plea, wrought with aching pleasure in being so filled as this.

His arms shake and finally give as Gabriel leans across him, and chest to chest with Michael, Alex seeks out familiar comfort in the crook of his angel's neck. Slender fingers fan through his hair, as Gabriel reaches past to stroke his knuckles down Michael's cheek, their eyes meeting across Alex's shoulder. Michael moves first, a languid roll of his hips to bury his cock a little deeper, met in movement by Gabriel's own rounded back to push further inside.

They need not move hard or even fast; they hard need move at all. Alex is spread so wide he's trembling, touching unsteady kisses to Michael's throat, as Gabriel takes his brother's lips with his own. Each slow shift fills Alex to his limit, every thrust stretches him to near breaking. He struggles to breathe steadily - he struggles to breathe at all - as his spent cock still attempts to stiffen painfully.

Alex turns to watch the twins' mouths twine together, and wonders how two beings of such enormous power can be so gentle together. A sudden jolt cuts his breath short, however, a snap of electricity sparking static across his skin, as Gabriel's hand presses between their bodies, and strokes Alex's spread opening, wrinkled skin stretched smooth. His groan is low and long, and without allowing a second thought, he leans in and meets them in their kiss. 

It Is messy, all of it, with sweat and spit and semen, and the further Alex falls to painful ecstasy, the less he cares about how much delight he shows in this. Because it is good. It’s fucking great. Entirely unbelievable and otherworldly and perfect.

The brothers don't talk anymore, they don't need to, their eyes set on each other say enough. Michael takes the time to enjoy Alex, nuzzling him, stroking his hair, pressing hot kisses against his stubbled jaw. Gabriel enjoys his brother, pulling from him feline little shifts and tugs, quiet sounds of undeniable pleasure and abandon.

Alex finds that it is very easy to enjoy Gabriel. Strong and stubborn and controlled, he holds them both entirely at his command without ever using the Voice again. He allows Alex his touches and bites, he allows him the space to squirm when the pressure gets too much and Alex arches back aching for more.

He relishes, truly, the sob that falls from Alex when Michael winds elegant fingers around Alex's cock and strokes him.

"Please - no - fuck -"

He wonders, not for the first time, if Michael can hear his thoughts - if he heard his desperate plea to an absent God that Michael wouldn’t make him do this in front of Gabriel. But despite this, despite the throbbing pain, despite his climax dried stiff against Michael's belly from so soon before, his blood rushes low. Heat swells in the pit of his stomach, tensing through sensitive skin stroked by familiar fingers. Alex curses sharply and groans, splayed fingers shaking.

"I can't," he whispers, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "Michael, please -"

"You can," Michael tells him patiently. "And you will."

Beneath Gabriel's sword-calloused hand, Alex's body heaves and shudders. He is a warrior, that much is clear. His muscles strain beneath his skin, and across its golden canvas indecipherable black marks writ by their Father. As if in minor vengeance for His twisted sense of humor in writing prophecy that none can read, Gabriel buries himself hard and sinks his teeth against Alex's shoulder, fucking fast and hard against his brother's cock.

Between them, Alex keens. It is as though two predators are slowly taking apart a helpless animal caught between them, yet there is a worship there from both that Alex can feel, can sense with every touch and breath and sound. The marks on his skin are traced with reverence, every touch is made to accommodate, to pleasure, to bring him to the brink of what he supposes people call enlightenment.

Two angels - two archangels - taking him apart not only for their own pleasure but for his own, and making sure he knows it.

Mouths meet by Alex’s ear, slick and perfectly fit to the other, then one turns to take his lips against their own, to swallow his weak little sounds of pleasure-pain, as the other mouth explores his sweaty shoulder, his throat, the ticklish rim of his ear. There is a murmur, something soft in a language he doesn’t understand, and he feels that sensation tug at him again, when he had felt gravity push him to the floor.

But this is not a containment, this is not a restriction, this is a liberation. His entire body seems to blossom, every cell responsive and shuddering with pleasure. He can feel _everything_.

“He really is rather extraordinary,” Gabriel sighs, and that’s enough to send Alex’s form to tension and relaxing, to shuddering and whimpered sounds, to breaking, again, after so short a time after the first time he had. Michael rests his head back against the pillow with a laugh, throat bared to Alex’s panting breath, to Gabriel’s sucking kiss when he pushes deeper into Alex in order to reach his brother beyond.

“You undo him with only your words," Michael purrs, until with a gasp, his legs strain and his stomach tightens. Stickied again by Alex's semen, his own pulses thick against his beloved and his brother both. Wings splay wide, snapping stiff as he shoves off the bed with a long, low groan and enough force to raise him from the bed even with both bodies atop him.

He watches their warring mouths entangle the other and licks between their lips to join. Messy and clumsy, each kissing the others, all breathless and sweat-slick, fingers in hair and shared breath and bodies rocking damp and smooth. Pulling back, hair sticking to his face, Michael grins crooked, and whispers to Gabriel, "And you said he wouldn't agree to it."

Alex stills for an instant; his lip curls. And he leans in to leave his mark on Gabriel in return, teeth and lips closing against his throat, and with an agonized laugh, Gabriel drives into him and shudders loose his climax. 

They are a mess of sweaty skin and ruffled feathers, panting breath and trembling forms. Gabriel pulls free first, careful to keep Alex still so as not to hurt him now that his body is so sensitive that even a breath against his skin has him moaning. Michael follows, shifting to lay Alex out on the bed, kissing his chest and throat and folding away all his wings but his flight wings, which settle wide against the bed.

He ruffles them and Gabriel hums a laugh, bringing up a hand to start slowly preening them smooth, lying back comfortable and almost sleepy, wings folded down to accommodate him and the chosen one on the bed together.

Michael's wings tremble, feathers hissing soft each time Gabriel draws his nails down a shaft to align its vanes. Wrapping an arm around Alex's shoulders, Michael leans to his brother, nuzzling against his cheek and accepting a gentle kiss. He turns to Alex then, and seeks the same, their lips fitted warmly together.

Florid-cheeked and heavy-lidded, Alex watches them both, from one to the other, back once more. He knows how little time - minutes only - Michael needs to catch his breath and begin again, and Alex notes that Gabriel has made no motion to leave. His whole body aches, sticky wetness cooling between his legs. Work tomorrow is going to be a bitch.

Another whisper of a feather straightened. Another. Gabriel meets Alex's eyes and his own suggest a smile, scant but genuine. He lifts his chin, and Alex follows his attention to the wing on which he lays. Despite himself, Alex feels his gaze narrow in a smile, and he lifts his fingers to Michael's feathers.

" _Oh_ ," Michael moans, as Alex's skilled fingers begin to preen him neatly, too. He starts to shift as if to pull away from them both, skin prickled and cheeks suddenly scarlet. "Oh, Alex - Gabriel - please..."

“It’s only fair, brother,” Gabriel reminds him, drawing up a leg to rest the wide trembling wing across as he continues to work. Alex watches, finds his fingers following the same turns and tugs as Gabriel’s, until Michael makes a sweet little kitten sound of pleasure and shakes harder.

“I preened him a few times,” Alex murmurs, voice slurred, sleepy. “He’s never responded like this before.”

“What you need to understand about preening, is that it is as much an intimate experience as it is a necessary one. Wings are delicate things, they are sensitive.” Gabriel takes his time drawing his nails over the hard line of a long flight feather and Michael squirms between them. “They withstand rather a lot but at their core they are fragile.” Gabriel spreads his fingers and slips them beneath the feathers to the down, rubbing carefully against the lay of them until Michael sobs, hands curled so hard in the sheets they turn white.

“Doesn’t that hurt him?” Alex asks, his own fingers turning over wayward feathers, letting his nails gently pick away the chaff on some of the newer feathers. Gabriel hums and soothes the feathers down again, his own wing curling against the side of the bed, untouched.

“Hardly,” he says. “Look at him.”

Michael is as undone by this as Alex was the rough tandem taking he blissfully, painfully endured. _Enjoyed_ would be the right word, Alex knows, but with what little stubbornness still remains in him, he tucks the thought away to allow it later. Beside him, the Archangel of War kneads the sheets like a great cat, he purrs like a kitten. Smiling sleepy and rosy-cheeked, Michael leans toward him to brush their lips together, touching little kisses there, and back to Gabriel in turn.

Alex pretends not to notice that Michael is already hard again, and instead savors the moment of peace between them, before the battle of their bodies begins again.


End file.
